After changing his jeans out with a clean pair from his go bag, Luke noticed the sudden spring he felt in his step and for the life of him he didn't know where it had come from. It certainly hadn't been there before he'd gone to Garcia's office. Talking to her had helped. Maybe it was all he needed, someone to talk to. Lisa had never been that. He'd never been able to really talk to her. Well that wasn't true. They talked. They talked all the time. They just never talked about things that mattered anymore. And it seemed like all they ever did was talk about their feelings or fight about not talking about them. He wasn't even sure anymore.

He could feel those old flight or flight instincts kicking in. When it came to romantic situations there was no fight instinct in him. He always ran at the first sight of trouble. And things at home were definitely in trouble.

The spring was gone again and he could actually feel his shoulders slumping as he slid behind his desk. The only three things on top of it besides his F.B.I. issue mug and laptop where a gold framed picture of Roxy, a handmade frame with a picture of the entire team that Penny had given him for Christmas and a picture of Lisa. He looked at her for a long time before he decided that he didn't like that picture. It looked like one that might have come with the frame. He couldn't see any life in her eyes, no joy. His gaze subconsciously jumped to the picture of the team. He smiled as Penelope stood proudly in the middle of the group with her tiny arms doing their best to encompass them all. She didn't make it past J.J., who was on one side of her or Reid, who was on her other side, but she was trying. You could see it in her face, a face so full of joy and life you couldn't miss it.

But then Garcia had always been that for him. His very first day, the very first time he saw her, it was like the entire world had colorized where before it had been black and white.

He looked back at Lisa. He couldn't understand why they couldn't make this work, why he couldn't make it work. Everything seemed so perfect. She was Latino. His mother and Abuelita liked that. She was a doctor. He liked that. They both hated the Bulls and loved the Knicks. They both loved animals. The woman was an E.D. doctor at a hospital in Washington, D.C.. Who won't admire that? She was a freaking hero.

He studied her picture again. Her light brown hair fell around her shoulders in a wave that framed her beautiful face. Yet her smile seemed plastic, forced. He tried to remember where the picture had been taken. But for the life of him he couldn't. She was wearing a green dress that gave off a shimmer so they must have been on a date but he couldn't remember where or when it was.

He really wanted to make things work with Lisa. They seemed so perfect on paper and Phil had been the one that brought them together. Would he be disappointed in him if they didn't work out?

He'd never know the answer to that question and that thought hit him like a blow to the stomach. Every thought of Phil brought with it a gut punch. God, he hoped it wouldn't always feel that way. He hoped one day he could think about his friend with fondness instead of feeling like his inside were being ripped out over and over again.

"We have a case." Rossi told him with a nod towards the conference room as he walked past.

Luke got to his feet with a final look at Lisa's picture before following after him. He was glad for the distraction. Maybe it would be just what he needed to get his head back together.

Penelope watched the team assemble in a cloud of smiles and nods. She was preoccupied and she was pretty sure it showed. She purposely avoided Luke's eyes when he came and sat down right beside her like it was his assigned seat. It was his place at the table. No one had given it to him. He'd just taken it like he belonged there.

Over the last few minutes she had come to realize that this thing that was happening in her head and in her knees and in her stomach were all his fault. He was living with someone, for God's sake. He shouldn't be strutting around here in his too tight jeans, flashing his dazzling, beyond-charming smile at her every time she looked his way. He didn't have to be so great that she couldn't help but feel like her legs couldn't hold her up when he got that sad look on his face when she told them about the victims of the latest atrocity that they would be confronting.

"Lincoln, Nebraska," She said as she pushed the button on the clicker in her hand and changed the screen behind her to show seven photos. "Named after our nation's sixteenth president and home of The International Quilt study center and museum, the national museum of rollerskating and all manner of nature, plus these seven individuals. Or rather it was their home until they all met their untimely ends. Each was found in a different dumpster, wrapped in plastic and each missing their genitalia and heart, both removed antemortem. The cause of death in all seven cases is massive blood loss, yet there was no blood at any of the scenes."

"Meaning they were cut up and killed somewhere else." Rossi offered.

"Exactly. There has been not even one tiny scrap of forensic evidence and so far, the Lincoln police have no leads."

"Being that all the victims are male and their hearts and genitals were removed, we could be looking at a black widow situation." Reid announced as he glanced up from the folder in front of him.

"Female serial killers are rare but not completely unheard of," Tara added. "Though the most used method of killing is poison. What do we know about the wounds on the bodies?"

"Clean, precise, one might even say surgical." Penelope answered, clicking the button to show a close up of the wounds on the screen behind her.

Emily squinted as she looked up at the images. "So someone with medical expertise."

"Most likely, but not necessarily. There are a few non-medical careers that could give someone the same kind of experience, like a butcher, for example." Rossi chimed in again.

"All the victims have been identified?" Luke asked, purposely looking down at the folder instead of up at Penelope, she noticed.

"No, actually, only three have a name." She pushed the clicker to bring up three pictures. "Alex Cummings, Henry Overton and Jack Fallon. The rest are all John Doe, at this point."

Finally, he lifted his eyes to her. "Any connections?"

"They were all regular players of the MMO Black Dawn." she said, clicking again to show avatars of the three men from the game.

"So we can assume the others are players as well?" J.J. asked.

"Well, you know what they say about assuming, but I am looking into that avenue of connection, yes." Penelope said. "And can I just add as a player of said game, I am appalled by this. We are a nice bunch of folks. I hate to think that one of my fellow players is capable of something this heinous."

"You play this game?"

"Level 65 Dwarf Cleric." She answered with a curtsy.

"Okay, David and Tara, talk to the family of the known victims. Spencer and Matt check in with the coroner to see if they have any new information. J.J. and I will liaison with the police department in Lincoln, and it looks like Luke and Penelope will be checking out the local gaming community."

"Wait, do you mean from here?" Penelope asked, surprised by the turn of events.

"Nope. Looks like your going on a field trip." Emily smiled at her. "Wheels up in 30." Then she grabbed her folder and phone and left the room without further discussion.

"Looks like you're with me," Luke said as he got up and slid his phone into his back pocket.

Penelope forced a smile. "Guess so."